Remember
by woolysox123
Summary: Lukas Bondevik is involved in a violent car crash which steals his memory, his freedom of movement, his personality and his future. Emil Steilsson fights to keep him in hospital, but at the same time struggles to accept this new brother of his. Lukas is trying to escape the past he doesn't know in order to move on with the future, but Emil drags him down. No pairings.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction for it.  
**

* * *

Prologue~

Emil Steilsson could remember. He could remember every moment, every heartbeat, every angry word that he shared with his brother that day. He could remember running outside to tell him that it was raining too hard, that he would be mad to try and drive in this weather!

Emil Steilsson could remember. He could remember Lukas jumping into his car, his best friend hopping in beside him, the two of them waving goodbye as they rumbled out the drive. He could remember Mathias, in the back, calling from the window, "Oh, you worry too much, Emmie! We're just buying a couple of beers!"

Emil Steilsson could remember, clear as day, what it sounded like when the police knocked on his door to tell him the horrible news, news which would implant itself in the back of his mind forever after. He could remember hearing his own heart shatter in his ears, and his mind start to scream at him silently. He could remember bursting into tears, running up to his room, never wanting to come out again.

Emil Steilsson could remember. He could remember Mathias coming into his room, apologizing to him for what had happened, and then being chucked out of the room and, soon after, out of the house. He could remember Tino coming upstairs that afternoon in a fruitless attempt to comfort him, muttering promises him that it would be alright, they would even be able to go and visit soon, that everything would go back to normal... and he could remember how plain those lies were, and how awful Tino was at hiding it.

Lukas Bondevik, on the other hand, couldn't remember. He didn't know a thing about that day. He didn't remember his brother's face, how it felt to drive on the road, nor how it felt to have one of your tyres suddenly slip. He didn't - couldn't - remember what it sounded like to have your best friend scream in terror, and that shot of adrenaline that coursed through his veins as he struggled to keep a hold on the wheel.

But he could remember one thing - one thing past those hospital walls that had become the only home he had ever known. He could remember a bus, zooming towards him as his van skidded off their side of the road, and then hitting his forehead against something hard. Then... Utter blackness, a void that felt as empty as death. It was this memory haunted him, for the whole two weeks of what he now considered to be his 'life.' It reminded him that he used to be someone once, not just Patient 120; that he used to know the people that came into his hospital room and sobbed at his bedside for an unfathomable reason. It was a reminder, and seeing as he could remember nothing, it almost seemed to go against his very way of being. It hurt him too much, made him feel guilty for not knowing anything from before.

Emil Steilsson could remember. Lukas Bondevik could not. Only one thing separated them, but yet that was enough to split a chasm of hell between them.

* * *

_It was a sunny day outside the cubical window of room 92, and a perfect picture of summer; the wind was blowing sweet, sickly scents through the open gap, the warmth in the room was at just the right temperature so that it wasn't uncomfortable, and the clouds that were skidding across the sky were clearly visible from the glass.  
_

_The beauty being shown to one man, and one man alone; Lukas Bondevik, who, at last, had a room all to himself. He didn't need to share it with anybody, nor did he have to have any more 'visits' from people he didn't know but professed to be friends of his; for the first time in his whole two weeks of life, he was completely free to do what he wanted, when he wanted. With a __content __sigh, he rolled over in his bedclothes and stretched out his feet to the floor. This was his day. He could do whatever he wanted at last. Finally.  
_

_He had just taken a couple of steps - slow and shaky, but at least he was unaided - towards the cubical door when a sharp voice behind him killed his plans stone dead._

_"Wake up, Bondevik! You have a visitor!"_

_"But I'm already awake," he replied with a groan, turning around to face his nurse. "I want to be alone for a moment!"  
_

_The voice cut straight through him mid-sentence, and spoke over the top of him.  
_

_"Bondevik, wake up right now!"_

_"Bondevik!"_

"Bondevik!"

Lukas woke up with a start, his eyes flying open and almost jumping off his bed before remembering the casts that wrapped around his legs and kept him from walking.

"What is it?" he groaned, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. It was a wonder he slept as long as he had: the foreigner he shared his room with had his siblings visiting him again and they were all talking far too loud; it was raining heavily outside so that Lukas couldn't tell what time of the day it was (but, seeing as there was a steaming pile of toast at the table by his bed he supposed it must've been around noon), and the occasional thunderclap could be heard as the wind battered against the window frame. It was the perfect day for sleeping in, in his opinion, and he'd been having such a nice dream... But there was nothing he could do about that, he reflected sadly. His nurse started talking again.

"Your brother's coming today - fancy that!" she said, shoving some of the toast into his hands, "And that nice Mr. Vainamoinen is coming again too! You liked him when he visited on Sunday, didn't you?"

_No,_ thought Lukas darkly. _I thought he was vile._ To him, the other had just been some stranger who had wondered in, blathered on and on to him about his personal life for a while and then left, without Lukas being any the wiser to his actual identity. And concerning that 'brother' that was tagging along... Lukas didn't like the sound of him at all. He hadn't met his brother thus far, and he most certainly _wasn't _prepared for yet another emotional breakdown by his bedside. He'd had enough of them already; he just wanted everybody to go away and let him live his new life without it being so tainted by the old.

With a submissive sigh, he muttered, "Sure, fine. Bring them in," and started methodically chewing the food. In his opinion, the hospital food wasn't the greatest; this man he could legitimately consider a friend ('Mathias,' as he called himself), had once brought to him some warm, golden and bubbly drink called 'beer,' and after Lukas tried that (and this pastry called 'pizza'), he found he never wanted to stomach bland hospital again for as long as he lived.

Unsurprisingly, the hospital bread tasted like cardboard, so, to help him keep his mind off it, he let his eyes wander over to his roommate's family.

They were all extremely animated, none in the least upset (with the exception of this one black-haired fellow, but then he always looked depressed). There were four in all, if one didn't count the patient, all of various ages - only one girl though, who, through a short unwanted conversation, he had learned was his roommate's little sister. Although Lukas hated the noise and bustle that they all brought to the room, he had to admit he was slightly jealous of them. They all seemed so happy and joyful and _alive _(with the before made exception), it made him resent his own 'family' even more.

And with good reason; the nurse returned, and tailing behind her was a fairly forlorn looking person, accompanied by Tino (who never looked 'forlorn,' not even at a funeral). Sending him a brief glance, the nurse indicated at his roommate's family with her thumb, telling them to leave. With a brief farewell, they were gone, and the curtains were tugged around Lukas' bed.

_I hate it when she does that, _he thought, and turned his face to the newcomers.

"Hello," Lukas said, with a brief nod.

"Hey..." replied the other, and sat down on the bedside chair. Lukas took a moment to survey him; the boy (only a couple of years younger) didn't look much like him, with his hair being a few shades too light and his figure being far too slim. His face was angular and his eyes were a rich violet, the whites a bit puffy. _He's been crying, _he realized, internally groaning. He would be difficult to cope with then, if he was still sad.

Tino stood on the other side of the bed, and leaned over so that his face was just a little too close for comfort. "Lukas! I've brought Emil with me today, like I promised!"

Emil gave Lukas a small, trembling smile, which looked like it could break at any moment. The latter returned it, holding out a hand for him to shake. Emil stared at it for a moment in surprise, before taking it.

_I guess I didn't do that before, _thought Lukas. _That must upset __him._

"I'll leave you two alone then," said Tino, pulling the curtains apart. "You'll be fine." This final part was addressed to Emil, and the latter seemed grateful for it. Tino flashed them both a final smile before drawing the drapes shut, leaving the two brothers alone.

"I went to town with Mr. Puffin yesterday," said Emil, his hand reaching up to grip the side of the bed. "He wouldn't shut up until I bought something for you. I spent tons on getting a chess board for you, so I hope you like it." He paused for a moment, tightening his grip until his knuckles went white. "You used to love playing chess with me. Do you remember that, Lukas?"

Lukas shook his head, and Emil's heart-broken expression made him feel a little guilty for a moment. This is why he hated visitors (that is, beside the fact that they almost always seemed like they were viewing his corpse instead of wanting to talk to him whenever they came); they kept trying to remind him of things, and then made him feel guilty for not knowing afterwards. Not wanting to fall prey to this trap again, he put his mind back on the present and decided to try and patch up the situation.

"I guess... you could try teach me sometime," he said, and, to his relief, Emil replied with a quiet consent. They both sat in silence after that, so that Lukas could practically feel the time whittling away around him, and after what felt like an eternity of silence the nurse returned and told Emil that it was time for him to leave. The boy was strangely silent in his departure, only waving to bid his brother any sort of farewell at all.

Lukas wasn't exceptionally sad to see him go. Now, at last, he could have some peace and quiet as he tried to get back to sleep.

* * *

Emil walked out of Room 92, flopping down beside Tino who had been waiting on the bench outside.

"So? How did it go?" asked the latter, his eyes bright and excited. However, this look disintegrated when he realized that it did not go well at all. Emil's face was downcast, and he looked like he was about to burst into tears at any moment. Briefly, Tino wondered if he should ask what was wrong, but then he stopped himself. Knowing Emil, he'd tell him without prompting if he wanted to. If he didn't, Tino wouldn't be told whether he asked or not. Fortunately, this was one of those times when Emil was in a sharing type of mood.

"Tino," he began, slouching and rubbing his hands, "I knew that he wouldn't be exactly the same, but he's so... different..."

Tino gave him a comforting smile. "I'm sure it's only temporary, don't worry! This happens a lot, it's nothing the doctor's can't handle."

"Yeah," said Emil, turning his face away before he started to cry out of disappointment and loss. "But... What if they can't? What if my brother died in that car? Because I swear to god that man in there is_ not_ my brother."

"It's not that bad," said Tino, patting his back. "I'm sure you'll get used to him eventually."

"I don't want to get used to him," replied Emil icily. "I just want my brother back."

* * *

**I actually started this back at the beginning of Januar****y, but wasn't able to finish it until now. Do you ever get that kind of writer's block where you can try to write but the words just refuse to flow? Yeah, I got that and I got it hard. But still, I hope it reads okay.**

**Thank you very much for reading! Please review, I love them, and criticism is my best friend.**

**~woolysox123**


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